


Moving Day

by DylanCruca



Category: Blindspot (TV), Jeller - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jeller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 11:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12131946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DylanCruca/pseuds/DylanCruca
Summary: Kurt and Jane discuss fantasies when he discovers something while packing up the last of her things from the safe house. Just smut and fluff. One-shot.





	Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

> A/N-This is a one-shot. Smutty and fluffy, but pretty light on plot, so if that isn't your thing, you may want to skip this story. Thanks to all of the readers out there. This fandom may be small, but it is so wonderful!
> 
> I have a longer story that I'll be posting in a few days (I hope).
> 
> This is established relationship, and could still fit within cannon.

When Jane went out to the kitchen that Saturday morning, Kurt was already dressed. The coffee had been made and he was eating breakfast. Her eyes hadn't even adjusted to the light yet. As he came into focus, she saw him standing at the end of the counter, paging through a coupon book that had been delivered in the mail like it was interesting to read. His fingers were drumming on the counter and he was audibly whistling. He definitely didn't look like a man about to make a commitment that he was uncertain about.

She walked up behind him, catching the smile he offered as he said, "Morning."

Wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his back, she said, "You're up early."

"Early?" he scoffed, "it's 9:30."

"Late night," she said as he turned in her arms to return the hug.

"I know. I was there," he answered, chuckling as he playfully smacked her ass. "But we have plans. So let's get our work done and then we have the rest of the day to ourselves."

* * *

If Kurt had any concerns about Jane finally bringing the last of her things from the safe house to the apartment, they weren't obvious. Instead of appearing nervous, he looked excited. Jane knew perfectly well that this "moving day" was a technicality. She'd been here so infrequently that when they opened the door, she noticed that it smelled stuffy from being closed up. They were always at Kurt's apartment, and most of her things were already there.

They carried in the boxes they'd brought, at least half a dozen, but after two were only partially full, she realized there wasn't much else left to move. She looked through all of the cupboards in the kitchen to see if there was anything that was hers, and once that was done, carried the box back to her room to check the closet. Kurt was stretched out on the bed, so she teased, "Someone get up too early and need a nap?"

"No," he argued. "Someone's done packing because you didn't have anything here anyway. Why did it take you so long to officially move in with me?"

"I don't think a month-and-a-half can really be considered 'long,' do you?"

She heard him opening and closing drawers, and then he said, "Hunh," like he was investigating something.

Jane removed a sweatshirt, a pair of sneakers, and two tees from the closet, and turned to see him lying there, studying the vibrator she'd left in the drawer. It was as long as her palm and narrow, a bright purple that was hard to hide. He studied it, turning it on for a moment before he shut it off and asked, with a smartass grin on his face, "What's this?"

"You know what it is," she argued while she folded her clothes and looked down in the box that still was not full. "You're not threatened, are you?" she poked a little, narrowing her eyes as she baited him.

"Threatened?" he confidently countered. "You chose to leave, what, five things here? And this was one of them. So no. I'm not threatened. I just didn't figure you were the type to…"

"To what? Want to come even when I'm by myself?"

"Can't blame you for that," he smirked, his eyebrows lifting at the center of his forehead, always fond of her when she challenged him.

"So I'm supposed to close my eyes and will myself to orgasm when you're not around?"

"That would be a neat trick. But, no. I just figured you'd prefer your own _handiwork_ over toys."

"Spend a lot of time thinking about that?" she taunted.

"Enough," he honestly admitted.

"Why?" she curiously asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Well, you know…"

Noting the easing of his cocky attitude, she realized she had the upper hand again. "You really think about that?"

"Yea. A little less now than I used to."

"But why would you think about that specifically?"

"Before we were together…sometimes I would jerk off and think about you doing that at the same time. Like maybe you were as worked up about me as I was about you."

"That's what you thought about?"

"Not every time. I'm a man of diverse fantasies."

"Let me guess, I should be glad I don't know exactly what those fantasies are?"

He shrugged, considering for a second before he rolled on his side, braced on one elbow. "Wonder how close fantasy was to reality." He tossed the vibrator to her and her reflexes directed her to catch it before she even thought about it. "Show me?" he requested.

"I'm not going to perform for you on command."

"Why not? I perform for you on command," he said, flashing a suggestive glance.

She rolled her eyes as her shoulders revealed a chuckle. "You're unbelievable."

"I thought you liked that about me." He scooted to the side on the bed and patted it. "Come on. Please."

"No," she said, realizing immediately that he noticed the momentary thought she gave the question, and knew he'd take that as an opening.

"Alright," he conceded, "fair is fair… You asked me a question. I'll answer it honestly. You stopped by my place one night, before we were together. You needed me to sign off on something, stayed for a beer. You hung out for a while, then went home. I spent half of the time you were there trying to decide whether or not I should make a move."

"Why didn't you?"

"You meant more to me than a quick fling, so I didn't want to mess things up. Also…I wasn't quite sure how you'd react. But after you left, I finished my beer. Wondered if you were thinking some of the same kinds of things about me that I was thinking about you. And…you know…" he paused for a second, then looked right into her eyes before he continued. "Once I thought you were at home, I imagined that you went straight back to your room. Like you'd been thinking about me…about us together…the whole time, and you couldn't wait. You fell right into bed, this same bed. You took off your shirt, but got impatient, so you didn't even bother completely getting undressed. You just unzipped your pants and started touching yourself. You were moving against your hand, kinda writhing around. Very hot."

"Then?"

"Not much more than that. Sounds, you know…moaning and stuff. I remember you calling out my name. It was like I could hear you. That was about all I needed."

"That's it?"

"I don't need a whole detailed story. It was flashes. Images. Sounds. Sometimes I'd fantasize that I'd show up and catch you in the act. You'd let me help out. That was a favorite."

"I get it." She faked an exaggerated sexy voice, tossing her hair ridiculously, "Oh Kurt, thank god you're here because I can't come without a big strong man." She giggled openly at her own joke.

He laughed at the joke, but corrected, "That wasn't how you sounded in my mind."

"How did I sound? And was I a blond in a bikini with really large breasts?"

Slowly shaking his head, he replied, "Nope. You sounded…like you. You dressed like you. And looked like you. Because I wanted you."

She bobbed her head, all remnants of her earlier teasing gone because, like he often did, he said something that made her heart flip-flop. "I thought about you, too," she confessed. "Lots of times. Sometimes you'd show up here, in the middle of the night. Come to my room…"

He nodded back, his voice barely emerging, "I wanted to. So many times."

She leaned over, bracing her palms on the bed and coming closer like she was going to kiss him, but he let her lips just graze his before he moved, brushing his nose against hers before tracing up the line of her jaw to her ear.

"I answered your question," he whispered, watching the tiny hairs on her neck stand on end.

"I know," she replied, clearly eager to continue. "Thank you."

"Will you show me now? I just want to watch for a little. Then we can do whatever you want."

" _Whatever_ I want?"

He picked up the vibrator from the spot where she'd dropped it on the bed and said, "Sure."

"Okay," she slowly answered, her hesitation mitigated by their discussion.

He'd learned somewhat recently that an alluring suggestion lowered her inhibitions better than alcohol. One of many things he loved about her.

She sat next to him and asked, "You just want me to start? Right now?"

"Take off your clothes so I can see?" he requested.

Kind of impatiently she yanked her shirt over her head, but then she looked at him, probably noting his obvious interest, and slowed a bit, arguing, "You know, I don't really make a big deal out of getting undressed for myself."

"Act like I'm not even here."

In spite of her protests, he thought she was probably behaving more seductively than when she typically undressed alone. Or maybe he just never tired of watching her clothes come off, because watching her still drove him crazy.

She crawled into the bed on all fours, straddling one of his legs with her knee between his. Her hands pressed into his thighs, moving up slowly over his hips to his stomach. Moving her fingers under his shirt, she slid her palms over his abdomen while she pushed the clothing up and out of the way.

Her nails dragged over his skin, moving back down toward his belt, her teeth softly grazing over her lip while she stared into his eyes. Before her fingers even reached his pants, she put her mouth over his still-covered sex, the heat of her breath making him crave the wet sliding of her lips and tongue. She moaned against him so desirously that he wondered if she'd really heard the sounds of his fantasies and tried to mirror them. She traced the shape of his growing erection with her lips and teeth, still through his clothes, patiently but thoroughly making him lose his mind.

He reached for her when her fingers fumbled for his zipper, and then he saw the vibrator next to her on the bed and remembered what they'd been doing. "No, no. Wait," he suddenly said, grabbing under her arms and lifting her up until she was seated on his abdomen.

"Are you really saying no?" she asked, her tongue curling as it traced the space between his lips, making him feel like the biggest idiot in the world for even considering turning her down.

"I'm an FBI Agent, ma'am. I know when I'm being distracted," he quipped.

"Was that an entire class at Quantico? Because if it is, I might go."

Even though all of the blood had vacated his brain, he still remembered his love for her above any physical desires. Ignoring her previous statement, he said, "You don't ever have to do something with me that you don't want to do."

"I know I don't," she countered with a confident smirk. Leaning her lips to his ear while her hand brushed alluringly over his chest, she added, "Because I can kick your ass."

He laughed the laugh that seemed to be reserved for her, and between that and the look he gave, he knew she understood his unspoken _I love you_. As her lips met his, she kissed him in a way that felt like a type of sex in and of itself.

Pulling back only centimeters, she reached behind him and stacked the pillows from the bed in one spot. "Scoot up," she ordered.

He didn't even consider disobeying. She pushed his shoulders back so he leaned against the pillows and then turned, her back resting against his chest, seated between his legs. She opened her legs, her outer thighs resting against his. It felt like she fit against him, no matter how they seemed to end up lying together. She turned her head to face him, her arm looping behind his neck before she kissed him.

He could feel each time her lungs filled and emptied, and noted a distinct deepening of each inhalation. Breaking the kiss, he looked down her body and saw her fingers had already slipped between her legs. He groaned quite audibly, feeling his own breath deepen and his mind narrow to only the sights before him.

Her free hand fumbled around the bed for the vibrator while she continued touching herself, and when she found it, she paused only for a moment to turn it on. She slid the device down her belly to her core. When the tip finally reached the parting of her flesh, her head pushed back against his chest as he heard a long _hum_ escape her lips. He watched with fascination as she moved it with steady meticulousness, beginning at her clit and then following down the line of her cleft until she slipped the toy into her body, pumped it twice, and then moved back up to her clit again, never concentrating on any one spot for too long, but stimulating her entire sex equally and rhythmically. He was going to remember that. He hoped.

Looking down over the gorgeous shape of her body was its own reward from his position. Peaks at her shoulders, breasts and knees; valleys at her belly, sex and between her breasts; like a human landscape he wanted to study forever. And he wanted to trace the dips in her form down to her center, a path that would run from her parted mouth, down the pulse in her neck and over her collarbone. If he could, he'd continue down the flat plane of her ribs between her breasts, stopping of course to note his fondness for each of them before slowly kissing a trail down her tummy until he could settle between her legs. The last stretch of the trail would be the slowest, knowing how impatient she would become to feel his tongue swirling and teasing and dipping inside her. Still, he could only look and imagine, unable to taste or touch in the way he wanted to, and trying to be content with the arousing scene before him.

He'd initially thought that being jealous of a toy was ridiculous, but as he watched her, he found he was rather envious. This little game that was supposed to be arousing was also frustrating. He wanted to be the one sliding through her silky folds, feeling the tight grip and pulse of her inner muscles, making her gasp in that sexy, disarmed and disarming way she did when she really let go and was lost in their lovemaking.

She moved her heels over to the other side of his legs to rest on the bed, opening her body more, although from this vantage he only felt more helpless. Still looking over her shoulder, his eyes slid up her tummy to her chest, finding her breasts moving with each heaving breath and looking as ignored as he felt.

He moved his hands over her ribs, bringing both of them to her breasts and gently massaging, wishing he could figure out how to get his lips around a nipple from his current spot. One of her hands reached for his, and he thought she was going to slap him away or otherwise dissuade him, but instead her hand covered his and encouraged him to a firmer touch.

Her softer sounds became louder, and he decided he was actually going to die from wanting her. He could feel her seductive wiggle against him, her body shifting and rocking like it would if he were inside her, but he wasn't, and she was undulating toward something that definitely wasn't him. He was hard and clothed with only the weight of her back pressing down on him to offer any relief. The need to move his hips, to push his body into hers, screamed through him.

Just when he thought he couldn't resist flipping her under him and plunging into her body for another moment, she took his hand and brought it to the apex of her thighs and demanded, "Hold this."

He took the vibrator in his palm, moving it over her, feeling the ample wetness coating his fingers as he allowed himself more touches than simply balancing the object against her. She reached behind her and started pulling at his belt, clumsily but successfully opening it before her fingers fumbled with his button. Keeping one hand on her, as he was ordered to do, he used his other to help her open his pants. He wasn't sure exactly what she was going to do, but at least he was finally freed from his clothes.

"I want to feel you come," she demanded, her voice so strained and raspy that she could have asked for absolutely anything and he would have complied. Of course in this instance, it was something he desperately wanted as well.

Still facing away, she lifted her body with her hands braced on his thighs and scooted back toward him. Very deliberately, she lowered her body onto his, finally allowing him inside her. She was insanely slick and warm, already near orgasm and pulsing around him. He could hear his voice, knowing that he was probably praying or pleading, but he didn't care what the hell he said as long as she fucked him.

She moved shallowly a few times, and he knew those subtle movements were almost enough to finish him. He stared at the beautiful shape of her back as she rode him, the tight muscles that lined her sides moving with her usual enthralling grace. He swore this woman was the most awe-inspiring thing in existence.

He kept the toy against her, though, feeling the way the vibrations coursed through her body, so the sensation traveled into his through her. And the pulses went through his hand, too, and fingers. He reached a little lower to the place where their bodies joined, and when his fingers touched his cock as he thrust into her, he could feel the pulsations there as well. His voice, crude and gruff, was unintelligibly vocalizing alongside hers.

He kept a vise grip on her left hip, holding on just in case she pulled too far away. It always felt like he wasn't nearly as far inside her as he needed to be. She cried, "Oh god, baby," as she came, and then the only sound he heard was his pulse, like he was deep underwater, pressure on his body from all around, unable to breathe, his vision muddled and hearing muted. And on the other side was indescribable joy, like victory, freedom, and love all crammed into one swift punch.

This was the type of feeling people would do almost anything for, the greatest high that lasted for only a few perfect seconds before it was gone. But damn those were good seconds.

The next clear realization he had was her, ripping the vibrator out of his hand as the sensation went from pleasurable to overwhelming. She clicked it off and dropped back against him. She was so muscle-less that she felt heavier for a moment, completely surrendered, temporarily existing without the slightest desire or need.

He wrapped his arms around her abdomen, possessively holding her against him. He was suddenly exhausted, hoping to hell she wasn't going to hop up a few seconds later to finish moving her remaining possessions. She did hop up, and he groaned unhappily, but she simply flipped over and found her favorite napping spot, lying half on her side and half on her stomach, leaning against him, her leg and arm wrapped around him with her head on his chest. His groan morphed into a contented sigh as she pulled the blanket from the bed behind her and folded it over them as far as it would reach.

"Can we just stay here a couple more minutes?" she began.

"We can stay here as long as you want," he interrupted, wordlessly grateful for the break.

Just as sleep threatened to overtake consciousness, he heard her giggle, "I don't know why everyone's always complaining about moving. Seems fun to me."


End file.
